Steve's Diary

July 26, 1934

Dear Diary,

Well. I guess my wish came true Because we're back to our camping spot again in Upstate New York for the night.

Last time we were here it was for my birthday (best birthday ever, by the way), and we fell asleep in the middle of nowhere star gazing. It was a really cool experience, especially the whole waking-up-with-the-sun situation that people are always raving about.

I woke up with Bucky on my left stretched out across the damp grass facing up, whereas I was curled up in a ball facing the other direction. This time we were smart and brought a tent... mostly because he whole sleeping-in-your-car-that-isn't-really-in-fact-your-car deal wasn't going to work out anyway.

This trip was more spontaneous, at least when compared to the last one which had been planned for nearly a month in advance...

———

"Steve I'm booooored," he whined. He always said that. I don't mind it though... it's actually kinda funny to be completely honest.

"Well it's your turn to pick what we do so.... that's kind of a 'you problem' Buck," I grinned over at him and he shot me daggers.

"Fine. If it's up to me then let's go."

"Go... where?"

"Get up," he grabbed my arm and hoisted me onto my feet. "Pack a bag, Steve, because we're heading out for the night."

We were sitting on the floor in my room (which was quite an ordinary bedroom by the way. Dark blue walls, light wooden dressers and nightstand with a matching bed frame. White curtains and a light blue comforter on the twin bed) so I stood up and grabbed a bag from my closet. "Bucky. Where. Are. We. Going." I demanded to know. I didn't want to just leave out of nothing and not know where we were off to.

"Oh boo you're no fun Stevie."

Wait what. Did he- did he just call me... well, actually, I kinda like it. Stevie. It's... nice, I suppose.

I guess he saw me contemplating this new nickname because then he said: "Steve," as the smile fell from his face. I flashed my teeth at him to show that I liked it and that warm glow quickly returned to his face. "We're going camping again. I noticed how much you liked it last time... and I like spending time with you so we might as well do something fun instead of sit here all days every day..." his voice trailed off.

"Yes I guess you're right," I had already finished packing my bag at this point. "Let's head out then," I added. And so, we did.

Leaving so late (around 1 in the afternoon) we didn't arrive until 6:30 pm.

"Well, here we are," he looked over at me, shifting the car into park.

"Yea and it's," I glanced at my watch, "six thirty nine... I guess we should start setting some stuff up?" I wasn't all that sure what I should do... seeing how Bucky usually did all the important stuff.

"Mmhmm we gotta set up the tent and get a fire going before it gets dark," he opened his door and got out. "You think you can collect some firewood while I pitch the tent?"

Tent. As in, singular... like there's only one of them?

"Sounds good," I said, opening my own door and hopping down to the dirt.

He unloaded the trunk as I headed into the brush. I collected as many sticks as I could, and only the ones that fit Bucky's description. Thin and long, short and long. Get a variety. Some thick but mostly thin ones. If you see any dead bushes get some of those super thin brush like branches... they're good for kindling. Most importantly, make sure the wood is dry. I really was doing my best and my arms were full of said wood.